suddenly gleaming again, childlike. "There's something else he told me."
"What's that?"
"The Crucible production is way ahead of schedule. He said they'll have two thousand units tested and ready to use by this Friday. Can you believe that?" she said in a raspy whisper. "Two thousand."
"Really?" Harris could see that she was starting to breathe more rapidly now, and it didn't take much imagination on his part to figure out what images she was seeing in her fevered mind.
The drop . . . and the wind . . . and the rapidly blossoming fire.
She started to run her hand down his chest.
"I don't want to wait," she whispered again.
"We have to."
"But we could do it ourselves," she said, "with the Cessna."
"What, all of them?" he chuckled.
"We rigged the drop racks to hold a hundred, so we could do the entire Yellowstone part in one trip, remember? A hundred at a time is only twenty trips."
"But a trip is a thousand miles, with rest and refueling in between," he reminded.
"It would take us awhile, but we could do it and still be able to pay Riser ... if they'll let you pick them up."
"They will," he said confidently. "That's all been arranged. But what about you? Do you have the strength?"
"I have all the strength I need if I want to do something. You, of all people, should know that."
'Yes, but—"
"I want to do it," she said insistently. "I have to do it. I can't wait much longer."
"Yes, I know," he said, feeling a combination of sadness and elation as her hands became more active, "but what about Eric?"
He was trying to concentrate on the problem, because he knew it was important, but he knew he was lost because he had already allowed his right hand to drift across to the warmth of her silky thigh.
"Uhmm, that feels nice. Do we need to involve him?"
"For access to the storage units, yes, we would have to." Then, after a moment: "Do you have any idea if he'll be in town this weekend?"
"He said something about going fishing with his father down in the Bahamas," she said indifferently as she snuggled herself in closer. He could feel the heat that was starting to radiate from her entire body now.
"Oh, really?" He was having to force himself to concentrate. "When?"
"I don't know," she murmured as she bit tentatively at his ear. "Sometime this weekend, Saturday, I think, or maybe it was Sunday. I can't . . ." Then she paused in her handiwork to blink in sudden realization. "Wait a minute, do you think . . ."
"It's possible," Harris said,
"How possible?" she demanded, her eyes widened.
"We know they've got to get together again sometime. Why not this weekend?"
"It's starting to happen, right now, isn't it," she whispered against his ear.
Her dark eyes seemed to be glowing in the darkened room. He groaned as her teeth sank deep into his earlobe.
"Yes, I think so."
"Then we have to do it now. We can't wait."
"I need to get hold of Eric then, immediately," he said, even though he knew it was hopeless now. Both of them were too far gone.
"Later," she whispered in his tingling ear. "Can you take me up again, now?"
"Another falling ember in my talons?" he said as he brought his hands up under her breasts. Her nipples felt like two hot coals in his palms.
"Yesss, take me up and drop me," she hissed. "Make me see them. Make me see the flames."
Chapter Six
Dr. Kimberly Wildman found the first one by accident.
A field group leader for the Department of Interior's National Biological Survey, Wildman had been assigned the job of documenting the entire ecology and biodiversity of the northwest quadrant of the State of Wyoming. Her assigned survey area included the Shoshone and Bridger-Teton National Forests, the Wind River Indian Reservation, and the crown jewel of the Park Service: Yellowstone National Park.
It was an absolutely monumental task that was expected to take a minimum of eight to ten years.
For a staff, Wildman had a deputy group leader; twelve site teams, each comprised of one biologist and one
"What's that?"
"The Crucible production is way ahead of schedule. He said they'll have two thousand units tested and ready to use by this Friday. Can you believe that?" she said in a raspy whisper. "Two thousand."
"Really?" Harris could see that she was starting to breathe more rapidly now, and it didn't take much imagination on his part to figure out what images she was seeing in her fevered mind.
The drop . . . and the wind . . . and the rapidly blossoming fire.
She started to run her hand down his chest.
"I don't want to wait," she whispered again.
"We have to."
"But we could do it ourselves," she said, "with the Cessna."
"What, all of them?" he chuckled.
"We rigged the drop racks to hold a hundred, so we could do the entire Yellowstone part in one trip, remember? A hundred at a time is only twenty trips."
"But a trip is a thousand miles, with rest and refueling in between," he reminded.
"It would take us awhile, but we could do it and still be able to pay Riser ... if they'll let you pick them up."
"They will," he said confidently. "That's all been arranged. But what about you? Do you have the strength?"
"I have all the strength I need if I want to do something. You, of all people, should know that."
'Yes, but—"
"I want to do it," she said insistently. "I have to do it. I can't wait much longer."
"Yes, I know," he said, feeling a combination of sadness and elation as her hands became more active, "but what about Eric?"
He was trying to concentrate on the problem, because he knew it was important, but he knew he was lost because he had already allowed his right hand to drift across to the warmth of her silky thigh.
"Uhmm, that feels nice. Do we need to involve him?"
"For access to the storage units, yes, we would have to." Then, after a moment: "Do you have any idea if he'll be in town this weekend?"
"He said something about going fishing with his father down in the Bahamas," she said indifferently as she snuggled herself in closer. He could feel the heat that was starting to radiate from her entire body now.
"Oh, really?" He was having to force himself to concentrate. "When?"
"I don't know," she murmured as she bit tentatively at his ear. "Sometime this weekend, Saturday, I think, or maybe it was Sunday. I can't . . ." Then she paused in her handiwork to blink in sudden realization. "Wait a minute, do you think . . ."
"It's possible," Harris said,
"How possible?" she demanded, her eyes widened.
"We know they've got to get together again sometime. Why not this weekend?"
"It's starting to happen, right now, isn't it," she whispered against his ear.
Her dark eyes seemed to be glowing in the darkened room. He groaned as her teeth sank deep into his earlobe.
"Yes, I think so."
"Then we have to do it now. We can't wait."
"I need to get hold of Eric then, immediately," he said, even though he knew it was hopeless now. Both of them were too far gone.
"Later," she whispered in his tingling ear. "Can you take me up again, now?"
"Another falling ember in my talons?" he said as he brought his hands up under her breasts. Her nipples felt like two hot coals in his palms.
"Yesss, take me up and drop me," she hissed. "Make me see them. Make me see the flames."
Chapter Six
Dr. Kimberly Wildman found the first one by accident.
A field group leader for the Department of Interior's National Biological Survey, Wildman had been assigned the job of documenting the entire ecology and biodiversity of the northwest quadrant of the State of Wyoming. Her assigned survey area included the Shoshone and Bridger-Teton National Forests, the Wind River Indian Reservation, and the crown jewel of the Park Service: Yellowstone National Park.
It was an absolutely monumental task that was expected to take a minimum of eight to ten years.
For a staff, Wildman had a deputy group leader; twelve site teams, each comprised of one biologist and one
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